


on that swing set, at that old playground

by baeconandeggs, carpark



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fantasy, M/M, Stars AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-04 12:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18604873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpark/pseuds/carpark
Summary: Baekhyun couldn't pinpoint where he had exactly heard it. Perhaps it was in his dream, which he couldn't retrace.





	on that swing set, at that old playground

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.
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> **Author's Note: This was indeed my first time, participating in a fest. I had fun playing around with the prompt, although it had subtly strayed from the original thought. However, I tried my hardest and i hope my recipient would like it! I would like to thank N, M and my beta S ( she cheered me on till the end!). You all have worked hard! The mods for the fest too, thank you!**

If Baekhyun had known prior, that his life would experience a supernatural and almost an enchanting turn of events at the time he rested against that swing set, he would have never let go of the moment. The moment that failed to be etched in his mind, on the veins that connected to his heart but however it remained as a subtle tingle on the edge of his fingers when he stared pointlessly at the sky. He was afraid he would miss a slight happening at the blanket of glistening stars; his heart kept beating even if that brightening star just glittered blankly at him. He sipped that familiar herbal tea, the bitter taste lingering on the tip of his tongue. It smelled like  _ him  _ , although Baekhyun did not remember the exact stain of reek that he gave off. Heck, he didn’t even know who was that ‘him’ he had been reminiscing about. But he knew, it was a wrenching feeling that tugged on his heart, that perhaps he was there, existing for him. 

“Stars, again?” Someone vaguely muttered behind him which jolted Baekhyun. But he stood unwavering, his hands lethargically hanging upon the tilted ledge of the windows. Baekhyun knew that person would drag himself right beside him, share a few words and retreat back to his own room. It always happened like that; Baekhyun expected it like that. Baekhyun spared a glance over his shoulder only to find his  _ flat mate  _ silently sipping on a glass of water.  _ He  _ gave a satisfied sigh before placing the glass against the table softly. Baekhyun diverted his eyes to the painting above, a star just passed by like a dash of white paint. It was a miniscule of pure coincidence, a splatter of luck on your grim night He realized there was nothing he could wish for. 

“Shooting star...” Baekhyun dreamily trailed off, catching the attention of the lanky tall-height man behind him. The latter came rushing to his side, in bewilderment, scrutinizing the sky for that particular wonder. He sighed, disappointingly, finding it gone before he arrived. Baekhyun only chuckled at the showcase of jutted lips and droopy eyelids. 

“It’s gone...”  _ He  _ whined, with sleepiness evident on the tone of his voice. 

“You could use some sleep. Go back, now. Shoo!” Baekhyun waved his hands carelessly at the hunched man, who seemed a bit sad that he could not even catch a star. He looked like he had minimized himself into a five-year old, who had undoubtedly possessed a 6ft male. Baekhyun still felt inferior under his impressive height, but then again often he only felt the urge to curl the stray ends of his bed-tousled hair. 

“No.” The man huffed. “I could say the same thing to you.” 

Baekhyun cackled, patting the man on the shoulder, which seemed to be a reach. “Go.” 

“What's your fascination with stars again? I think you never told me.” The man said, thoughtfully. He was a bit wayward, but Baekhyun thought he could use the empty silence of the night for a small and mere, story time. The one he did not know by his heart or mind, but the words simply rolled of his tongue whenever he initiated it. 

“I simply like it. It was a phenomenon, I would say, I encountered a few years back.” Baekhyun shrugged as he sipped the cold tea as a reflex. The rim stayed pressed against his lips before he continued, “I would find myself jolting up after a dream.” 

“A dream? Shouldn’t it be a nightmare sorts?” The boy questioned, curiously. Some dogs howled at a distance, perhaps just by the trash bins hoarded at the corner of the alley. 

“I am sure it was a dream. Even though, I did not remember the exact contents of that dream, I would still find myself feeling light-hearted after that.” 

The boy hummed. Baekhyun smiled fondly, trying to reel back the memories of those times that seemed so far away; almost too unreal. 

“So...it was around dawn that I would find myself awake. It was out of reflex that I would prepare myself a herbal tea and sit by the window, to stargaze. It seemed like an old habit? It did not seem out of the blue or anything, just something familiar carried by my limbs, you know?” 

“Then?” The boy questioned after he had stretched his mouth agape to entice a yawn. Baekhyun looked at him worriedly, squeezing his biceps as a question if he should continue. The other nudged him by shaking his arms a little bit. 

“And then, you came. On that rainy morning, drenched and all. I took you in. I wanted my habit to die after that, because I thought it would disturb you. And it does, right?” 

“I don’t mind, particularly. Just an itch at the back of my mind, thinking if you had slept well and all.” His flatmate shrugged nonchalantly, before staring at the sky with sleepy eyes. Baekhyun trailed his gaze, and it rested at that particular star that seemed to stand out among the others. 

“Want to hear a story, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun asked carefully. “It is like a myth, sort of.” 

“Shoot.” 

_ “Well, I don’t remember exactly where I heard it. It might have been an announcer at a train or those long ass advertisements on the television. But it goes something like this, that if you wish on a dead star luckily, the star would come to you. It would help you fulfill that wish staying right by your side. It is to lift off a curse or something so that he could return to the sky as a living star. He will kiss you on the first meeting, seal the deal and all that shit. But after your wish is fulfilled, he’ll be gone.”  _

\----- 

Baekhyun often walked the abandoned roads of the wee hours of dawn, among the rustles of the autumn leaves and the whistles of the winds wrapped around his eardrums. There was not much to 

notice in that awfully pitch-dark ambience, the dark azure sky hovering above him. If the wisps of cloud seemed kind enough to disappear to hazy remains, Baekhyun could point out some stars peeking and faintly glittering against the dark satin blanket. 

While he walked, that night he caught the sight of an empty playground. The carefree laughter, and the souls of the children who played remained as a hazy holographic cinema that Baekhyun had imagined. 

It was a habit of his saggy skin, and down-sided lips, that he could not initiate a warming smile. He gazed upon the stars, as he spontaneously took a seat on the rotten swing which wailed under his weight. His knuckles grew white, as the rough chains that held the swing together rather reluctantly, scratched his dry skin painfully. He blew a wish to the autumn air, the one formed by the stretch of his lips and the twist of his heartstrings. The wish almost strung itself, words by words, as he called out to the only star that blinked radiantly, among the others. 

_ “I wish not to be alone anymore.”  _

He stood, deeming that it was late and that he should get some hours of shut -eye before he drowned in stacks of papers, pointlessly making them and the mundane events should repeat itself. Baekhyun walked, with a slight cripple at his right leg, as the muscles on his thighs tensed and relaxed. He winced at the pain but it wasn’t something he didn’t experience every night. 

Baekhyun however was suddenly halted in his movement, idle above the patch of grass of the playground. The creepers clutched his soles to the ground, holding him against. No matter, how much Baekhyun had exerted, his legs couldn’t move. The whirls of the winds hollered against his ears, the chilliness contouring the protruded cheekbones, his pursed lips and the rough strands of his hair. It carded through every auburn locks and saltiness could be tasted immaculately on his tongue. 

There were unconscious tears streaking against his cheeks, droplets willed on his eyes rims. His eyes searched for anything, and everything to pull him through from that trap but he could find none. There were incoherent whispers echoing, surrounding him as a never-ending spell and the faint cries of rage sea waves layered over. 

When he looked back at the swing, it seemed different than before. Someone preoccupied the seat he had taken before. That someone seemed so extraordinary, with a saturnine aura that made him look so distant and untouchable. Porcelain skin, that was bathed under the silver luminescence of the moon, as his crimson hair was slicked back showcased him as intimidating. The man’s achromatic orbs reflected a bewildered image of Baekhyun staring back at him, stuck to the ground helplessly. He adorned a musty trench coat, belt cinching his waist tight and a smug smirk on his visage. He looked amused, mocking Baekhyun with the trance he had. 

The impassive expression that the man wore, appeared to irk the gauche stance that Baekhyun carried. Baekhyun felt so inferior under his shadow, that he wanted to run and never look back. But he couldn’t. 

He tried to pull his limbs out the swallowing ground, groaning as he did so. The man sitting there, casually watching the ordeal in front of him, chuckled. 

“Don’t push.” the man said, the contours of his face inscrutable. His gaunt fingers flickered a cigar, with a caress of the tip of his fingers. He pressed the beige stick, in between his lips and blew a puff to the autumn air. The burnt smell wafted under Baekhyun's smell, who already had believed all that was happening to be a mere dream. “You are not going anymore.” 

“Let me go.” Baekhyun implied with much force from the back of his throat. His heavy legs seemed heavy and lifeless. 

“You should help me first.” The man sauntered toward him, slowly as if his legs seemed tied. When he came close, there were hints of globular glint in his irises. He came off as entrancing, the detail and flourished that his skin owned seemed so much more when he inched his face close to Baekhyun’s. Baekhyun felt his breath stuck, the reek of toasted cinnamon dancing under his nose. 

“How?” Baekhyun quivered. There was a rumbling inside the man’s chest, nervousness visible from his flushed cheeks yet he leaned a little closer. Baekhyun’s legs were no longer trapped under the green weeds but under the mesmerizing glance of the other. The arms of  _ the man  _ rested around Baekhyun’s, pulling him in while his fingers traced circles on his lower back. 

“A kiss, sweetheart. So that I could brighten up again.” Just a glance of Baekhyun’s and their lips met in a compulsive harmony. Chanyeol's fingers travelled graciously against the white crisp shirt of Baekhyun’s. Baekhyun raked his nails along the soft red locks brushing against the scalp of the enticing male. Chaste kisses that resulted from constricted air and then delved into deeper ones, molding their lips as lock and key. Craning their neck, angling to either side as the kiss escalated, initiating small whimpers and satisfied felicity in both of their hearts. 

Baekhyun felt himself almost light and his legs fluttering in the air. His eyes shot open when he found that he had lost the trace of those lips against his. His toes were buried deep in sand and blue, glittering sea was all he could see in the horizon. He doubted if he was dreaming anymore, if he had drifted to slumber long in the hotel and under his embrace. But the salt that he could taste at the tip of his tongue or the cold breeze that raked through his hair, felt too real and complicated to dismiss. 

He frantically craned his neck, finding nothing that caught his eyes. Even though, he tried to retrace the events that lead him, standing alone in a soulless seaside, he found none. No memories, nothing. Just a blur throbbing of his lips and dried tears on his cheeks. 

So he turned, tearing his attention from the water that washed to his ankles and walked slowly.  _ As far as they could take him  _ , he reckoned. His hair hung loosely over his eyelids, tickling his skin. Baekhyun had no thoughts trapping him in, it was almost like he was coaxed to peace. Those insurmountable barriers turned to dust under the crush of his boots and shadow of his genuine smile. 

When he raised his head, he found someone. That person was beautiful, a smile painted on his face and hand buried inside his beige trench coat. He felt so familiar, those red strands that he once kissed and the eyes that searched only for him. He was there, right in front of him. Singing his name like a hymn, calling out desperately. He mouthed something with lips, molding words that were inaudible to Baekhyun’s ears. He always wanted to hear, he realized, what he wanted to say. 

A step and he would be there, engulfed by his arms 

Everything warped into a appalling darkness and the next thing he knew, he was staring at his ceiling.. Wrapped in soft comforter and resting against the hard futon of his own, he never felt so comfortable. 

Rain howled against the the windows, the glasses shuddered under every groan of the wind. Baekhyun woke up, suits lined up in his cupboard, pressed shirts hung under those and ties piled the shelves. He took one set out, and threw it on the messy bed of his. He strutted towards the bathroom, folding his sleeves up of the last day’s shirt. He freshened up, his heart felt surprisingly empty and his shoulders light. When he took a look of his ghastly features, the droopy eyes form the lack of sleep and the stray hairs standing erect on his side of his head, he felt everything remained the same. The sky that was ever so gray, the shadow casted upon his room and the dead flowers on hsi vase that was never replaced. Everything was a depiction of his reality, somewhere he wishes to had never returned. 

There was a sudden knock at the door which caused him to break away from his train of thoughts. He washed his hands for the last time, and rubbed it with the towel. He hollered a loud, ‘coming’ as he fixed his sleeves up to his wrist. It seemed to be raining cats and dogs outside; the droplets of water bounced off the window noisily yet annoyingly. Baekhyun clicked his tongue as he passed by the suffocating and somber dining room, dampening his mood as he thought about the en route to office. 

The knocking against the door soared, rather impatient. Baekhyun hurriedly went to open the door, the rain drops thudding in the background, only to see a man in a trench coat, awfully smelling of drenched soil and sweat. He was panting, supporting himself against the door frame, huffing deeply. He was gripping into a wet paper on his hands tight, as the crinkled paper reflected back ambiguous bold letters asking, “FLATMATES NEEDED!” 

The man had his head hung low, taking in short breath he inquired, “There is a vacancy for flatmates?” 

“Yes. You are at the right place.” Baekhyun had the door ajar wide, waiting for him to enter. When the latter retracted from his original posture, Baekhyun noticed how his height was incredibly impressive. His crimson dyed hair was drenched, plastered on his damp forehead as his trench coat hung heavily upon his shoulders. His eyes that looked straight at him, glistened enchanting taking him in. It looked like he had hid thousand of galaxies beyond his poly-chromatic pupils, appearing as translucent blobs of hue. 

Baekhyun didn’t inch back, but stayed idle. He kept his gaze fixated on the unfamiliar man yet he couldn’t help but feel he had seen him before. His heart, inadvertently, took up its pace as it wanted to jump off his chest. The man, only cocked up his eyebrow to and inclined his head towards the dinning room to let him inside. 

“Sorry.” Baekhyun mumbled, and moved form his way. 

“Name?” Baekhyun asked, without controlling his urge. The man, with drenched crimson hair and water dripping from the ends of the strands seemed so familiar but he couldn’t point it out. Asking him his name, perhaps would had let Baekhyun remember. 

“Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol.” 

Baekhyun couldn’t figure it out, even then. The rain continued harshly in the background, and even when Chanyeol had taken off his trench coat and settled on the worn-out sofa, Baekhyun couldn’t keep his eyes off him. 

The congested dining room never felt so full. 

Every night was kept the same as Baekhyun had spent on various love hotels. His boss slept soundly beside him, snoring under his breath. Baekhyun jolted from his dream he had been having that few days. The one dream, where he had been running towards someone, his toes dug into the crumbling soil below and that person who kept saying the same thing over and over again. He couldn't make out any syllables uttered except the sad smile that would soon take over his quivering lips. His hair smelt like sea and the tip of his tongue a little salty. The person couldn't be seen clearly no matter how much Baekhyun would squint his eyes, it would always be blurry and dazed like a fragment of a never-ending dream. But there was always that urge of curiosity, and that wrenching pain in his heart that would initiate his legs to run, to catch him before he left him. 

After the clock had finally struck 4 in the dawn, he would find himself leaving the love hotel. He couldn't linger a little longer, finding himself pathetic to cure his loneliness with petty nights like that. When that old man would grumble close to his ear cartilages, kiss his body and release his dirty fluid all over him, he felt painfully relieved. To think that, that there would someone close to his figure, breathing. 

But all the guilt would strike him after, he had to leave the love hotel encountering all those people who surprisingly looked like him. Saggy skin, droopy shoulder covered in wrinkled suit and with the same flushed expression that seemed to call loneliness. 

On the other hand, every night of his seemed a little completed afterwards when he would leave the hotel and reach his apartment. When he would open the doors, revealing his flatmate standing near the 

unlatched windows, staring off at the sky, mumbling something under his breath. Baekhyun would walk over to him, ask him what he had been doing and he would always reply the same thing, 

“I am conversing with the stars.” Baekhyun would chuckle, and pat the latter’s shoulder and suggest him to get some shut-eye. But it never happened like that. They would both happen to engage on some conversation that Baekhyun would not remember the next day except that it always made his heart flutter with pure happiness and satisfaction. During the conversation, where he would sip on some delicious warm herbal tea that Chanyeol made, and converse about anything and everything that popped in his mind. 

Baekhyun admitted that Chanyeol was an odd person, talking with the stars and with his ability to make herbal tea that would warm your inside no matter what. How his eyes would glitter, and his smiles were so bright and the fact that he always made Baekhyun stare at him a little longer admiringly. 

Baekhyun remembered how Chanyeol had made him breakfast the next morning after his arrival to the apartment. It was a simple breakfast with burnt sausages and two sunny side ups. Baekhyun felt so grateful, how his heart filled up in an unexplained heavy feeling. He devoured the breakfast in a haste; he couldn’t miss how the egg whites melted in his tongue with a wish that he could savour it for much longer. The burnt sausages were cut in small bite-size pieces which helped Baekhyun to gobble them up. However, during the breakfast he noticed how Chanyeol didn’t touch his food. The food was left idle on the ceramic plate, as Chanyeol kept his eyes fixated at Baekhyun. Even though he felt the attentive eyes on him he didn’t feel to shrug it off. 

As the spoons and forks clunk against each other, and the left out oil stained the ceramic plate, Baekhyun found himself wishing that every seconds could drag a little longer. Before Baekhyun could realize, every morning he couldn’t tear himself from an offer of breakfast from his flatmate, who looked ever so handsome in his white shirt and blue jeans. 

During the subway train en route to office, his hands gripped on to an unfamiliar arch of a lunch box, the heaviness of it that was quite burdening. But he couldn’t ignore the reflection of his on the glass windows of the subway, dimly lit by the fluorescent lights above, the image of him smiling ever so subtly. 

The office was suffocating, the constant rings of telephones, the papers that was stacked on his table and the whines of his colleague to catch dinner together. He turned him down, many times in a row, however his colleague’s stubborn never seemed to diminish away. During his endless correction of calculations, the cost and the profit never adding up, he felt extremely skittish as he scratched his forehead occasionally. He sighed, heaving a caught up breath, as he formed an impression that he could never finish by the deadline. However, his ears perked up at some commotion some cubicles away. He ever so peeked quietly above the gray wall, his eyes darting over the crowd that had formed. There was his colleague too, with a grim expression on his profile, which confused Baekhyun even more. 

The flock of inky black suit saturated more which eventually perked Baekhyun's interest on sauntering there and scrutinizing the situation. But as he got closer, he found out he didn’t want to know anymore. He figured out already, by the muffled sobs and the fake consoling of his coworkers that ‘everything was going to be alright’. 

During the ride to the love hotel, where his boss was waiting, he found himself pondering if he ever got dismissed from his position, what would await for him. Whether if it was the place he would return to and the person who would sincerely chant against his ears that ‘everything is’ indeed ‘going to be fine? His mind tracked to find none at the other end, but a half-lit neon head-sign, reading another love hotel. 

Baekhyun was undeniably appalled, as his co-worker whom he never conversed left in such an embarrassing way. With a crestfallen mood that damped the work atmosphere, the pestering colleague did not ask him out for dinner that day. 

As days progressed, Baekhyun’s love for Chanyeol’s herbal tea increased even more. Whenever he returned home, Chanyeol wouldn’t ask him about his job which made him work overnight every single day but instead hand him a yellow hued mug, with a sweet yet savoury aroma of herbal tea. Chanyeol would grin stupidly, and snatch Baekhyun's suitcase and tug on his suit for it to be forgotten away. 

Baekhyun would do so, and he would let himself lose along the rhythm of the Chanyeol's hums against the purr of the thunder outside. 

“There are no stars today. Who are you talking with?” Baekhyun found himself asking as he sipped the green drink in his hand. The flavour was still the same old, the one he loved to savour. 

“Even though it’s dark, they are still existing behind the clouds, among the thunders and all. Perhaps I can’t call them today, but I know I will see them soon enough.” 

“Uh-huh. So much for being enthusiastic. I so wish to be someone like you, Chanyeol. Full of enthusiasm and optimism.” Baekhyun chuckled, although it didn’t sound as happy. 

Chanyeol grimaced as he averted his eyes over the sky that occasionally was illuminated with bright light of the booming thunders. It was a slight thunderstorm, and perhaps it was raining on some side of the town. 

“Do you want to hear a story?” Chanyeol asked, hopeful that he wouldn’t be turned down. As if he ever is, Baekhyun shrugged with a wave of his hand. Chanyeol blew his cheeks to balloons, with a huge grin plastered on his face. 

“Well, I heard this story from someone I don’t quite remember. It is said that if you wish on a dead star, the star will come by in a human form and fulfill your wish by helping you achieve it. Without powers and all that shit, but sincerely.” 

Baekhyun unconsciously guffawed, holding his agape mouth with his palms. Tears welled up in his eyes from the pressure of suppressing his sheer laughter. Chanyeol pouted his lips crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. But, I urge you to continue.” Despite Baekhyun’s sudden outburst, Chanyeol continued, although grimly. 

“You wish on it, the dead star comes down and kisses you on the lips and the contract is sealed. After his work is done,” Chanyeol sighs, his slightly glassy eyes unfocused, he imitated with his hand ”poof and he’s gone.” 

Baekhyun couldn’t help but brush his hands on Chanyeol’s sweatshirt, as a thought of coaxing him. Baekhyun stifled his laugh by pursing his lips into a straight line, as he couldn’t shrug of the impression of Chanyeol’s adorableness. It was an instinct that grew in him, that he wanted to protect the latter from the darkest hours and treat him like he was the brightest; the ever glittering that would always shine for him. 

“Well,” Baekhyun said after a while, his hand still clutched on Chanyeol’s sweatshirt, “I wish it wasn’t a myth. I wish a dead star would accompany me too, for every surge of the ocean waves.” 

Chanyeol looked at him, sideways, as an indefinable expression was carried from the fluttering of his eyelids and his moving pupils. He inched closer towards Baekhyun’s bewildered face, closing the distance. Baekhyun didn’t retreat back but took a deep breath, finding everything he held so tight slowly loosening form the gaps of his fingers. 

He could feel the soft breath of Chanyeol’s on his philtrum, as his heart didn’t listen to him anymore. But there was no caress on his lips, as he might had expected but slowly the breath disappeared. He found Chanyeol moving away, to his initial position and gazed upon the illuminated sky, with a profound look. 

That night, as he buried himself under the soft comforters, he found himself trailing his thoughts back to Chanyeol. His laughs, those words he spoke and his starry eyes that seemed to glitter whenever he stared absentmindedly at the sky, and it repeated itself like a broken record. Baekhyun started to expect events he never thought he would before; the times at the breakfast tables and the fragments of conversation that he and Chanyeol shared under the moonlight. Before the sun peeked behind the clouds, he realized he wanted to spend so much more time with his flatmate. He realized how the times he spent at the love hotels seemed to be useless and how it only filled his empty void with guiltiness. It wasn’t a cure to his loneliness but just a way to feel something on his benumbed lifestyle. 

He realized how precious every moment shared with him were; the wrenching need for seeing him standing near the window sill. Baekhyun wasn’t afraid anymore, he had someone waiting for him every time he opened the door to his reeking apartment. 

The next dawn, while he was returning to his apartment, Baekhyun’s eyes tracked his way to the old playground. It had a weird air of nostalgic memories, some he wasn’t able to remember. He didn’t know much but a sense of deja-vu washed on his body like a shiver. He left the swing, the chipped metal crying at the loss of weight and as he walked he didn’t care enough to look back. Under the dark-red foliage of trees, and the music of the autumn air, he was coaxed to a sentiment that he had someone to live for. A presence and a shadow under which he didn’t feel lonely anymore. 

He opened up to Chanyeol, as he sipped to his usual drink. It didn’t taste that delicious like before but a hint of bitterness was there, hidden behind the aroma of herbal greens. 

“I lost my job. I broke the contract and I am not working overtime anymore.” 

Chanyeol didn’t say anything, and unusually his hands were empty of the same drink. Baekhyun knitted his brows, but his gaped mouth relaxed.. He felt Chanyeol’s arms slip behind his back, and he was pulled against Chanyeol’s heaving chest. Baekhyun didn’t hear his heart beats as his own dominated all of his hearing senses. Baekhyun wailed, his cries almost muffled by Chanyeol’s convincing chants that,  _ ‘everything is  _ ’ indeed ‘  _ going to be alright  _ ’. 

That night, Baekhyun was wrapped under Chanyeol’s warmth. They didn’t kiss, or had any physical contact, but their hands tangled around each each other as they stared deep into the each others eyes meant a whole galaxy to them. They both knew how much they longed for each other. How much they seemed attached form their broken ends. It was a delicate initiation, a hidden signal that they both liked each other. 

The next days went by so casually, that Baekhyun had forgotten he had left his job. Baekhyun covered his spending from some scrap of money he had saved. Chanyeol came forward and brought groceries on his own, preparing them into a candle-light dinner everyday. Baekhyun never felt so complete, as he slept under the impression that there was somebody there to think of him. 

After a long day of job-hunting and interviews, Baekhyun lethargically rested against the worn-out couch. Chanyeol was not home, but his smell existed everywhere. From the trench coat of his he had worn, tightened around his waist to the coffee he made, which rested on the table in front of him. There was a small note, ‘  _ I’ll be back  _ ’. 

Chanyeol rarely left the house except sometimes, when he had a sudden call during the evenings. He would excuse himself, and rush through the door with the call he had pressed against his ears. As much he was odd, he was an epitome of curiosity too but Baekhyun never prodded much into Chanyeol's life. He didn’t feel the need to. 

Chanyeol came back soon as the thud of the door broke Baekhyun from his slumber. Although his eyes were dazed, blurry enough not to catch any details but he could still make out the stupid grin plastered on Chanyeol’s lit up face. 

“What is it?” Baekhyun groggily asked, rubbing his arms on his heavy eyelids. Chanyeol cooed, unable to resist his urge to squeeze Baekhyun's cheeks. He kept something hidden behind his back, clenched tightly. Baekhyun let Chanyeol squeeze his cheeks, as he whimpered slightly. Chanyeol's hands trailed along his cheeks, his thumb pads admiring his blemishes. 

“I have something for you.” Chanyeol said a while later. “Train tickets!” He shoved the tickets to Baekhyun's chest with eyes lit in excitement and that same old stupid grin. Baekhyun chuckled, as he held the tickets in his own grip. He followed his eyes along the lines that were printed on them, a small smile crawling on to his lips. 

“Tickets to Claudia Beach.” Baekhyun muttered.”Why sudden proposal to a beach on dead winter?” Baekhyun squinted his eyes and moved closer to Chanyeol’s face. Chanyeol squinted eyes, mirroring his expression, but ended up laughing anyway. His laugh tickled Baekhyun’s overgrown strands and the tip of his nose. 

“You should stop snorting at my face, Chanyeol. I won’t say it is a good manner to do so.” 

“You should stop trying to kiss me.” Chanyeol crossed his arms on his chest, with a triumphant look on his face. Baekhyun rolled his eyes, and muttered under his breath, “As if you said something great.” 

The day to the beach came running by, more quicker than usual. Baekhyun noticed, as days went by, Chanyeol became unusually sentimental and a little more agitated. He would wrap his arms along Baekhyun’s waist, and press his chin on his shoulders while Baekhyun tried to write his portfolio with better terms for the nth time. Sometimes, Chanyeol would press his lips on Baekhyun’s crown, and sob a little, breathing in Baekhyun's lavender shampoo. Baekhyun would try to pacify him with spontaneous hums and comforting pats on his back. And those were the unmistakable days, when Chanyeol would want to sleep with him on the bed, wrapped under the same blanket and Baekhyun's warmth. Before dawn came by, Chanyeol would wake up and the side where he slept would leave indentation of his figure, over which Baekhyun's would run his finger over so slowly. 

Baekhyun had packed a pair of shorts and a white wife-beater. Chanyeol was surprisingly empty-handed, excusing he didn’t need much. 

“For a beach stroll in winter, I dare you can’t even dip your toe in the sea. Seriously, leave all the baggage and come by.” Chanyeol commented at the bag Baekhyun had been holding. Baekhyun did leave the bag forgotten on the worn-out sofa, and left with his hands then engulfed by Chanyeol’s huge ones. 

During the train-ride, Baekhyun and Chanyeol didn’t talk much. Chanyeol laughed about silly puns he had made with the scenery pacing with them, but Baekhyun didn’t give his share of laughter. Eventually, Chanyeol frowned as the train’s announcer said a robotic replay of the stations they had passed and which ones they were going to reach. 

When they got of the train, Chanyeol still hadn’t released Baekhyun's hands and only gripped it tighter. Baekhyun thought Chanyeol was just travel sick, so he squeezed a little to his side which relaxed Chanyeol’s tensed posture. 

“You think, the conductor of the train had anything fun to say?” Chanyeol quipped in the middle of the bus ride to the beach. It would be another 15 minutes ride, and honestly Baekhyun was tired of unloading and loading themselves on and off different platforms. 

“For all I know, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun sighed, “those voices are pre recorded. I don’t think they had anything fun to add.” 

Chanyeol straightened his lips and jutted his lips out into a pout. 

“I wish they could say if there were different types of food available at the next station. Or how the people there are, or if there are nice things to see.” 

“You know it will leave nothing for us to be curious about. If we knew, what the future holds for us, would we try living for it? I don’t think so.” Baekhyun lightly laughed, patting the hands interlocked with his. “You can be sometimes very naive.” 

“Well, Baekhyun, what if I do want to know?” There was a sorrowful undertone in Chanyeol’s voice that Baekhyun couldn’t ignore. Baekhyun tried to find the answer that was appropriate for the inquiry made but he couldn’t string the words together which would, if anything, make the answer seem less upsetting. His eyes trailed the calloused hands of Chanyeol, the prints on his fingers dry to caress but yet he found that there was no other beautiful hands than those to replace the empty gaps between his fingers. 

“Well, you are living it with me now, aren’t you?” 

The bus stopped in front of a small cheap diner, where Chanyeol and Baekhyun prompted for a quick lunch. The lobster meat was soggy and salty to taste so Baekhyun commented he liked Chanyeol’s hand-made Italian menu more. Chanyeol was silent throughout the whole lunch, only gobbling down the food without much to say and honestly, Baekhyun felt the awkwardness hanging on the cold heavy air. The indie acoustic played as a soft murmur from the jukebox filling in the empty background yet none of them paid an ear. 

“Come on.” Chanyeol said, after rubbing his lips with a tissue. He smacked his lips together soundly, and gave a forced smile afterwards. Worried, Baekhyun pulled Chanyeol by his wrist the moment they were out of the suffocating diner. 

“Hey, is there something wrong? The air got to you?” Baekhyun rambled a couple of reasons more but Chanyeol respond to none. Chanyeol inched his hands forwards and touch Baekhyun's jaw with his 

thumb, there was that familiar unexplained gaze held in his iris. The galaxies didn’t seem to glitter anymore in his eyes. 

“Let’s go. We are late as it is and we are going to miss the sunset.” Chanyeol muttered, and gripped Baekhyun's hands in his. Chanyeol back seemed smaller than before as if he had lost a burden. Baekhyun was afraid if he was the invisible heaviness that clung on his back like a plague. And he realized, he didn’t want to go visit the sand anymore nor leave that hand be. 

His toes were buried in the sand that seemed to eat his skin, the small particles rubbing and tickling him. It was a weird feeling of being sucked into an abyss of golden sand and Baekhyun pondered if he had dug out the sand,  _ what he would find?  _

“Do you think farewells are there as a part of meeting someone new? A new fate perhaps?” Chanyeol snuggled a bit closer to Baekhyun, hugging his knees to his chest. Baekhyun was there by his side, playing around with the dissipating sand castle he made. He watched the sea softly roar, waves plunging in and raising up again from the water body. 

“You are asking a lot vague questions, lately.” Baekhyun chuckled, his eyes concentrated on a stray empty shell he found. It looked like a cone, the inner side coated with slick white and the outer hard cover of different shades of beige. 

“I think, it depends on the mindset of the person that was left behind. If he could ,forget the past that he was bonded with, he can of course ride a new road. But, if he can’t, unfortunately, he would be rewinding the same old cassette day after day until someone meets him and welcomes him to a new world. A new ride.” 

Chanyeol hummed and waved his hand to scoot Baekhyun closer to him. Baekhyun crawled back, the shell still protected in his fist. Chanyeol threw his arms over Baekhyun's hunched shoulders, and pulled him in his chest. Baekhyun's auburn hair scratched Chanyeol’s chin softly as Chanyeol rested his chin on Baekhyun's crown. The smell of lavender wafted under his nose, which he inhaled deeply. Chanyeol closed his eyes, and savored the moment. 

The fleeting moment, with Baekhyun enclosed in his warmth, his lips against Baekhyun's tousled hair and the image of Baekhyun admiring the shell held between his fingers. 

“You are awfully silent today. Tell me what is in your mind.” Baekhyun couldn't resist himself from prying, from breaking Chanyeol's bubble that day. He looked through his strands at Chanyeol who stared back at him and Baekhyun smiled a little. His eyes glittered like it did, the first time he ever saw. The ever-growing familiarity, and the same wrenching pain his heart twisted into. 

“Nothing is on my mind today, Baekhyun. It is you only, sadly.” Chanyeol replied, although softly. He inched his face, as Baekhyun could almost feel his warm breath on his visage. Baekhyun blinked back, if 

everything that happened and was happening in front of him was real. The stormy day, where the rain droplets had ricocheted form his glass window and when he had opened the door to find him drenched. 

“Why sadly?” The word were soon muffled and gulped back when Chanyeol had finally pressed his chapped lips against his. Baekhyun moved his lips, responding to same rhythm Chanyeol carried. The music played on his lips prints, as their heartbeat matched ever so simultaneously,running towards the same end. Baekhyun hands crawled to his Chanyeol’s jaw, nails digging on his skin, as the latter’s hands roamed around Baekhyun's hands, his fingertips walking on his arms. Chanyeol opened Baekhyun's fingers wounded around the shell slowly, interlocking the fingers with his. The shell was forgotten, washed away with the creeping sea waves. The sun hid behind the clouds soon, blessing the world with a darkness that seemed to never end. Until it peeked through the clouds again, announcing close to your ears, that a new day had started. 

When they had stopped kissing, Baekhyun could breath a new air again; the air tangled with the aroma of the burnt cinnamon. They looked at each other, the blemishes not visible anymore under the darkness of the sky yet they could find it as if was memorized along the finger of each other. They resembled each other; the expressions carried on their visages as the galaxies in each other eyes had a burst of different hues. 

“I want to say something.” Chanyeol said, his hand never left Baekhyun's face, shaping it with his palm. 

“Go on.” 

“Even though, sun has awakened and the stars are not visible anymore. Remember, they are still looking after you. Following every road you walk on, the nights you miss alone and the ones you won’t even remember.” 

“Is that a song?” Baekhyun uttered after a silence. 

“No, just what I wanted to say.” 

They laid on the sand bed, Baekhyun's head resting on Chanyeol’s biceps. Baekhyun took a deep inhale of the salty air, before turning sideways, gazing at Chanyeol's intriguing profile. 

“You look pretty today.” Baekhyun yawned, rubbing his hair against his sweatshirt. Chanyeol pinched Baekhyun's nose tip, with his fingers, from which the latter whimpered. 

“You look sleepy. Come on, let’s walk you to dreamland.” Chanyeol curled his arms to let Baekhyun snuggle a little closer to his sides, as the other heaved a sigh. Baekhyun closed his eyes and opened them again slowly. Chanyeol looked longingly at the sky, his lips pursed into a taut line. He seemed troubled, as the wrinkles on his cheeks showed expressively. But Baekhyun didn’t question him, but threw his arms on Chanyeol’s waist hugging him tighter. He muttered, ‘Good night’ against his shirt, 

before inhaling the distinct smell he couldn’t recognize anymore. He fell asleep, under the moonlight, enclosed in his warmth and the reek of the pounding sea. 

When his eyes fluttered open, he felt bizarrely empty. He couldn't understand why he was left alone, on the sand bed, surrounded by nothing but golden piles of nothingness. The sea still roared, the waves crashed and fell on its own pace but yet Baekhyun couldn’t grasp the reality. He rose from his sleeping position, standing on his lethargic legs, eyes wandering around the scene, that seemed so familiar yet nothing could make him remember. 

He could see someone in a distance walking away somberly, as if heaviness had attached him to the ground. His crimson hair wafted by the curls of the wind and his hands buried inside his beige trench coat that hugged his waist. Baekhyun squinted his eyes as he tried to focus on the retreating figure. 

“Hey...” Baekhyun mumbled, his legs slowly moving towards the silhouette. But as if he had heard the small inaudible whisper, he stopped. But when he turned back on his heels, the face seemed awfully hazy as the features on his visage was a blur. Baekhyun's legs ran as if it had a conscious of its own, but his mind seemed yet to distinct the man who was looking at him. His toes, and the soles of his feet burned against the sand, which tried to bury him inside. 

The person said something, which seemed unclear. Just a movement of his lips, mouthing something incoherent. 

Baekhyun sauntered slowly towards the figure, who seemed to had halted on his steps. He knew he had to stop him but he didn’t know why. It was a urge on his veins and the pace of his heartbeat that told to do so. But as he walked, the scene warped into a deep darkness, and he felt as if he had lost everything. He wanted to go back, to see that person for once but he couldn’t no matter how much he had tried. The sound that was trapped on his throat croaked, suffocating his breath. 

He was lulled into a sleep, the one pulling him in ever so gracefully. When his eyes jolted open, he was lying inside his covers as his sight opened to nothing but the bleak ceiling. His heart felt heavy but he didn’t know why. 

He sighed. He rested his back against the headboard, taking in the rain that poured heavily behind his windows.  _ What a dull season,  _ he thought. There was a sweet reek of fresh lavenders, filling in the room, which he couldn’t remember plunging inside the vase. He didn’t know why he felt as if his soul was sucked out of him, even if he freshened up, splashing water on his visage numerous times but he felt he couldn’t click back to reality.  _ I can't even remember the damn dream  _ . He was frustrated, his hand clutching on the rim of the sink as his knuckles whitened. 

There was a sudden knock on his front door, breaking him away form his stupor. He looked over his shoulder as he washed his hands for the last time. Drying it with a towel, he walked towards the door. The pitter-patter of the rain, and the whirr of the wind that knocked on the glass windows, irked Baekhyun as he walked through the dining room. 

When he opened the door, he found a man panting, his hand holding the door frame for support. Raindrops clung to the end of his crimson hair, as his eyes peered through the bangs. For some indefinite reason, Baekhyun felt the the person huffing in front of his door was familiar, as if that same scene had repeated itself. The latter’s finger clutched on the damped crinkled paper, marking the ambiguous letters “FLATMATES NEEDED!” 

“There is a vacancy for flatmates?” 

“Yes. You are at the right place.” 


End file.
